Chapter 1779:


    Gillian hesitated, then gave a small nod. “Go on, take it. And say thank you to…” she paused briefly, choosing her words, “…to Mr. and Mrs. Martel.”


    Adide blinked, mildly confused by the abundance of Martels, but she epted the gift with both hands and said in her clear, soft voice, “Thank you for the gift, Mr. and Mrs. Martel.”


    “You are very wee,” Colette said, and felt something in her chest give way a little more with every passing second she spent looking at the child.


    What a shame that her son hadn’t even managed to add his supposed future wife to his contacts. Colette suppressed a sigh. At this rate, it would be years before she could finally bring Gillian and Adide home where they belonged.


    Santos was equally delighted, though he worked considerably harder to conceal it. Too much visible enthusiasm would give things away. The thought of his son and his continued failures made Santos’s chest tighten all over again.


    Gillian, for her part, watched the three Martels gathered in the room and felt the unease tightening in her stomach. It was one thing for Henrik to visit alone. Having Santos and Colette arrive as well was something different. She was afraid the Martels might eventually try to take Adide by force — and equally afraid that resisting too firmly might cost her daughter a future she herself could never provide. The two fears pulled against each other without resolution. The more she turned it over in her mind, the less certain she became about what the right answer was — for Adide’s sake, if not her own.


    At the Wade family residence, Violette set down her ss and fixed the messenger with a look of sharp skepticism.


    “You’re telling me Henrik and Alban’s parents are making personal visits to see some servant’s child?” The disbelief in her voice was in. Even if the Martels had a general fondness for children, they wouldn’t go to this kind of trouble without a reason. She had already heard that Henrik was going every day without exception.


    It didn’t make sense. Unless the child had some connection to the Martel family that no one had said out loud yet.


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    Was she Alban’s?


    “We wouldn’t have brought it to you if we weren’t certain,” Jaxen said. “It started with just Henrik. Now Santos and Colette are going as well.”


    “Could Adide actually be Alban’s daughter?” La said, thinking it through.


    “Impossible,” Violette said, the wording out clipped and dismissive. “How could he have a child with someone from that background?” She, with her family name and everything that came with it — how could she possibly be overlooked in favor of a woman with nothing?


    “It sounds far-fetched, I know,” Jaxen replied. “But it’s the only exnation that holds up. Why else would the entire Martel family suddenly be spending their time in a hospital room with a stranger’s child?”


    Violette’s expression darkened. Her jaw tightened. Here she was — everything a Martel daughter-inw was supposed to be — and they were pouring their attention and affection into amoner and her daughter.


    “We should find a way to run our own DNA test,” La suggested.


    Then a different thought surfaced, and she leaned forward slightly. “Actually — Adide has to be Alban’s. Think back. Why was he so insistent that we get both mother and child out of the Jones household? At first I assumed it was about Gillian. But he kept pressing for the child toe too, every time. He wanted a sample from Adide. That’s why he wouldn’t ept just the mother — he needed both.” Sheid it out steadily, the pieces fitting together as she spoke.


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